Storms
When thunder rolls outside my room Grey clouds swiftly spreading gloom I race to see the first drops fall Listening for the thunder’s call Then the lightning strikes, felling trees Harsh beauty, fall to my knees A drop hits my face I look up I hold out my hands like a cup Catching the torrent in my hand I get up, and manage to stand The rain drops fall, hit the floor I reach outside, begging for more But I am denied, again Once again, I have lost a friendPuzzle
My puzzle has many pieces My life has more My puzzle fits together My life does not My puzzle makes a picture But I can’t see it The puzzle drops But I get up The puzzle is broken But my life is notHelp
I sat down to rest Then I got up I needed to help It had to be fixed It was getting late Time was running out Only I could help So I helped them But then it was too late To help myself
The following poem is one I wrote after leaving a crowded room, in which I felt emotions that I still cannot explain, except by the poem.
The Winner
I stood in the crowded room, alone despite the multitudes assembled, the noise, the commotion. I bore my sword, my only defense, my only offense. They came in swarms, dark and silent and deadly. They pulled at my heartstrings, my temptations, my emotions. I tried to resist, to fight back, not to give in. I clenched the blade and dug in, feeling the pain, raising a shield of agony to protect myself. They attacked. I nearly faltered. I thought back to my earlier years. I recalled a song, a song of joy, of innocence. I drove away the darkness, the flames, the death. The Light, The Coolness, The Life. My reasons for living are the reasons life goes on. No two things deserve that fate.
The following is a poem of which I am sort of proud, because it actually has some good rhymes. I wrote this after I was frustrated by the self-inflicted blindness I kept seeing around me.
Self-Distraction
Once upon the stormy seas I sat begging on my knees Pleading to all the gods in heaven and hell Even offering my soul to sell But then I thought of family back home And how I always wanted to roam When I really should have been there instead So I started angrily banging my head On the slippery deck of blood and tears I couldn’t help thinking of all the wasted years Why couldn’t I appreciate all that I had So I started feeling horribly sad But in my grief, I didn’t see the dawn that signified finally that the storm was gone My prayers had been answered, but in the sea I almost dived When I noticed that only I had survived.
Before I learned to control my emotions, I would occasionally have these periods caused by extreme stress and tension that would influence me to act completely out of control. A few months ago, I was besotted by lots of work and emotions and fell into one of those out of control periods. Luckily I had learned how to express my emotions: through writing.
The Thoughts Have Spun
flying high one minute spiraling down the next drugs? no stress? that can’t be it at least not the only reason running around looking for someone not there! the walls are my enemies! the stones, the bricks, the snow! jumping around outside heat flying off hi-yaaa! did you see that? I hope not I gotta run away no, wait, what if someone calls? halfway back, ruled by expectation now, the adrenaline’s down anger replaced by sadness heat replaced by helplessness boom! Boom! not again music of my soul, save me! It ignites me! but it’s only a temporary solution for the poem never ends
The next two poems are ones are wrote for the campus journal. Because I didn't really express anything in them, they weren't accepted.
Pass It All
Pass the food Pass the drink What the hell Pass it All Pass some clothes Pass some Dirt Pass some cleaning Ah who cares Pass it AllEvolution
The call is sent down and across the infinite heard only by the few the ones who know it and can respond now and with hastily thoughts The resting place is chosen The arrival is checked The portal is opened Emergence is imminent The color is white The years continue One slip, one grey mark then it happens the Black Mark soon it gains friends then the end draws near the portal comes closer “Clean me” comes the cry “I am dirty and black.” No answer comes back “Please, time is running out!” But no one hears the shout when departure is nigh the black remains and purification must occur but no gain comes without pain is it worth it? no
The next piece is actually not a poem in structure, but in mind and style. It was just something that I had to say.
Ecstasy Pure
“Knock knock!” The ectasy pulses through the mind, flooding my mind with intense pleasure “Hey there, what’s going on?” Once again I brace myself, keeping the feeling to run down once again The song, the music, has arisen again. All others fade out, into the darkness. Soon, I will take my place among the future. “May I come in?” “Well, okay. What is it?:” No one could have ever imagine what music can accomplish. There are pieces of music that do many things. “There’s something I needed to talk to you about.” Slowly once again I feel the wondrous feeling that comes down from above, spreading its goodwill throughout my body, eliminating all negative feelings. So I’ve heard, so I know. The soul begins to sing, telling the angels of joy and happiness. The angels cannot bear to remain silent and sing forth, singing the songs of the Eternal. In all of creation, no one thing is as powerful as the soul. Some say it is an intangible thing, while others disbelieve its existence. They are entitled to their own opinions. But I ask them this: If nothing but a larger brain separates us from the animals, then why does the only music that can touch us come from ourselves? To me the answer is obvious. They say dreams come from our experiences in life. Maybe so, but to me they are much more. How many among us has known a dream to be a dream while we have dreamt it. More than you'd think.
I wrote this next poem on a dare, to write a poem in ten seconds about someone, our student council president.
Ruler
He swings the ruler and smacks with his crown all who attempt to steal his throne, but in one more year, like a clock, he’ll be gone, and another takes his place.
This next multi-part poem contains much of how I maintained my sanity and civility, by expressing my strongest emotions on paper.
Thoughts Sprung From Her
In the time that has passed I have not thought much of her seeing her again reminds me of my anger towards myself now they both sit quietly a welcome change at least they both study instead of play a needle is all I need now alone for the second time with her it astonishes how the fates drive their cruel blades into me. I think the greatest beauty of all is the sight of one thought lost a close friend they were yet seeing them again is as great as having that friend What is now happening has been one of the greatest fantasies of mine, alone in a room with her, anything is possible. But it is all unlikely, the only probable occurrence is for her to continue her knitting while I sit mute, unable to engage her in any conversation. Would that I could only speak with her, hear her flowing and beautiful voice, but the best I can do is stare unremittingly at the beautiful hair, face, the hands that are so slender yet strong and supple and when she eats her snacks shivers run down my spine and I wonder what is the matter with me that I cannot talk to one who I fell so deeply about, even one so shy as her. Pierced by visions of hatred how dare she invade my domain and sully my perfect viewing of my love’s actions with her mere presence and irritating voice make me almost homicidal and I wish I could just drive out the incessant damage on my brain only the image of my love can stay my hand from violence, her mere presence calms me, even makes me nervous, biting my nails. She is a wonderful, beautiful person her smile fills me with joy unmeasurable I wish I could shout out how wondrous I feel when her magical lips form into a soul-raising smile that lifts me beyond my anger, beyond my pain, and into happiness. Red-faced, I almost injured someone irreplaceable by the standards of my souls at least, if not by her “friends.” If only I could turn back the clock, the clock that sealed irreversibly my fate. I feel hatred towards the disgusting and ugly person of Hell, the demonspawn who’s voice is as a banshee shrill and horrible killing all that would stay near that wretched sound of doom while the prattle is merely gossip and idle talk which causes the damnation of the soul, yet by driving the voices with visions of an ideal utopia saves my soul for one more day. Alone, with only the sound of her feet, I think and curse myself for being such a fool to think I could get close to her. Rage burns thicker than blood, more piercing that dagger against my own heart, it is stronger than nothing but that which threatens that which I hold dear.
Once, after a horrible emotional incident at work, I was feeling distraught and highly emotional. I had jumbles of ideas in my mind, nothing specific, so I just wrote and wrote until I was feeling better. In a way, it's just a poem with little poems inside it.
TheVeryLongPoem
Kloppity-kloppity-kloppity-klopp Watch my noodle go round the clock In days of hot; in days of cold Funny things are always old When treelight sunders the pale moon sky The birds all sing and dance goodbye My frolicking habits are none too soon Without my tissue, the clock will strike noon I’m feeling good from my head to my shoes I’ve got a new attitude If you wish upon a star Then you’ll never buy a car Every time you fall asleep I’ll come to you If your heart is made of dreams All your passions too extreme Merely wish upon a star And feel renewed Everybody loves a little chocolate Everyone has fifty pairs of shoes No one knows the meaning of my crazy nose Nobody but Joe Everybody likes who’s that guy Watch that crazy nobody guy He thinks he can fly Fly high in the sky With a root beer pie But I don’t know why That termites don’t die And penguins can’t lie But water can’t fry Once the nickel drops Once my heart stops Once the clock stops Once the fear shows Once the feeling grows Once the wind blows Only one person knows And that person is me But what if I died tomorrow What if I cried tomorrow What if I laughed tomorrow What if I gasped tomorrow What if I jumped tomorrow What if I crashed tomorrow What if I came tomorrow And no one was there If I had a penny for every time That I heard that stupid rhyme I’d be rolling and rolling in mounds of dough But even then I still wouldn’t know How to stop the plague that’s here The one that comes most every year The crazy mania that we suffer from Something that seems almost too dumb Something that makes me grip the mantle Every time I hear another scandal The push pins on the wall The idiots at the mall The noise from the stall The idiot making a call The incessant bouncing the ball The big acting small Fills me with gall When I look at them all So I say: why don’t you fall from the building that’s tall all the way down to a solid brick wall The kicking of the shrew I don’t know what to do The way they are treated Their arguing gets heated “Why don’t you get off your seat” “You sure are looking to get heavily beat” Until the threshold is finally crossed And the lowly are tired of being bossed We will all see the revolution come From the ones to which we throw our crumbs An ode to friendship One that always lasts Through thick and through thin Through braces and casts Through fights and yelling Through pushing around Through finally agreeing Through compromise found That’s the friendship I think we should’ve had And if we’re having it now Then I’m really glad There’s only one person That I can not see Only one person Who’s different to me Only one person Who’s a strange mystery Only one person Who holds the key To unlock the secret Of finally being free Jolly and happy Energetic and free Reliable and trusting Easy to see who Marvelous and wonderful Y-O-U
I was feeling emotional one time, and started writing, when I was suddenly struck by a jolt of craziness. The following writings have no title, as the only corollation between them is that they were written in one sitting and that they are all weird.
Weird Writings
Jeremy quickly penetrated her defenses, plundering what was rightfully his, without bloodshed or hubris, and without the unfortunate deaths of any observers that might have been watching inside the templed brain of insanity.
She screamed in agony with penetrating pain that she felt to the bone. She begged for mercy, but Jeremy and his mate merely laughed at the foundering and sputtering daemon-spawn that elapsed on the ground.
"That's for sure," exclaimed the apprentice. The Master frowned.
"I don't think you understand the possible depths of failure in your pursuit. If you should fail, you will not only be killed physically, your corporeal form consumed, your soul and spirit shall be given to the Demons who exist in that form."
"But Master," the apprentice stammered. "How else can I ensure my success?"
"Only by destroying the portal that brings you to your destination."
"But then I won't be able to come back!"
"Your physical body won't, but at least your spirit won't be corrupted. Or else, you can try to get back on your own, but They might follow you through. It must be your decision."
Benjy quickly ran up to the Cheese Head, the pigs of Ham chasing fiercely after him. Panting, he activated the Cheese Button. The door opened, and Benjy slipped through before it slammed shut. Breathing hard, he could hear the squealing and grunting of the Danger Pigs slamming into the impenetrable door. Benjy, breathing an immense cheese-filled sigh of relief, turned around. His jawbone dropped open.
"Oh great." Before him stood the armies of Mice For Cheese (MICKEYMOUSECLUBSANDWICH) or as they were commonly known, MIC. There they squeaked, teeth gnashing, ears bristling, swords (pins) drawn. Benjy grabbed his trusty Cat Puppet of Light and Happiness and Of Course Good, and threw it at the vile mice, who scattered the sight of their worst predator. Benjy grinned and puckered up, kissing the Cheese Lips to activate the mechanism to unlock the treasure room. He somehow managed to survive the stench, and ate a cookie.
A good cookie.
The EndShe screamed in agony with penetrating pain that she felt to the bone. She begged for mercy, but Jeremy and his mate merely laughed at the foundering and sputtering daemon-spawn that elapsed on the ground.
"That's for sure," exclaimed the apprentice. The Master frowned.
"I don't think you understand the possible depths of failure in your pursuit. If you should fail, you will not only be killed physically, your corporeal form consumed, your soul and spirit shall be given to the Demons who exist in that form."
"But Master," the apprentice stammered. "How else can I ensure my success?"
"Only by destroying the portal that brings you to your destination."
"But then I won't be able to come back!"
"Your physical body won't, but at least your spirit won't be corrupted. Or else, you can try to get back on your own, but They might follow you through. It must be your decision."
Benjy quickly ran up to the Cheese Head, the pigs of Ham chasing fiercely after him. Panting, he activated the Cheese Button. The door opened, and Benjy slipped through before it slammed shut. Breathing hard, he could hear the squealing and grunting of the Danger Pigs slamming into the impenetrable door. Benjy, breathing an immense cheese-filled sigh of relief, turned around. His jawbone dropped open.
"Oh great." Before him stood the armies of Mice For Cheese (MICKEYMOUSECLUBSANDWICH) or as they were commonly known, MIC. There they squeaked, teeth gnashing, ears bristling, swords (pins) drawn. Benjy grabbed his trusty Cat Puppet of Light and Happiness and Of Course Good, and threw it at the vile mice, who scattered the sight of their worst predator. Benjy grinned and puckered up, kissing the Cheese Lips to activate the mechanism to unlock the treasure room. He somehow managed to survive the stench, and ate a cookie.
A good cookie.
Oh and by the way, that's the end of the poetry page too. Hope this helped
you understand me better.
